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THE STOLEN BRIDE 



OR 



A TALE OF OLD WATCH HILL 



BY 



ANNIE M. BURDICK 






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THE MIDDLEMORE PRESS 
58 Thomas Street New York 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CON&RESS, 

Two Copie* R»eeiv»4 

JUL 30 1903 

f CapjiMght tntry 

Cuss lU XXie.N«. 

U 'L I I 
COPY B. 



Copyright, 19(«, 



ANNIE M. BURDICK 



f^"^; 



THE STOLEN BRIDE. 



When the night descends dark and chill, 
I wander over old Watch Hill, — 
Wander around trying to trace 
Some long ago forgotten place. 
Strange sights do I see, strange sounds hear, 
Aye, sounds strange to an Indian's ear 
Who once roamed this land at will ; 
His spirit hovers round it still, 
Trying to picture the spot once more 
As it was in the days of yore ; 
As when our council fires did flame 
Ere to this haunt the pale face came ; 
When these waters supplied the fish 
With which to fill our birchen dish, 
And from the woods we filled the same 
With deer and other smaller game ; 
Gathered our wampum from the sand 
Which with the seaweed strewed the strand. 
'Twas here we smoked the pipe of peace 
When for a time our warfare ceased ; 
Here wigwams, the red man's abode, 
Decked the land whereon he strode — 
Strode proudly hill and vale around 
The Narragansett's hunting ground. 
A branch of that powerful tribe 
Once lived here, aye, lived, loved, fought and 
died. 



The Stolen Bride; 

That noble race hath passed away, 
Scarce remembered their name to-day ; 
But the Great Spirit hath not forgot 
His children's most unhappy lot, 
Of us he doth constantly remind 
In roaring- waters, in mighty wind, 
His teardrops fall around like rain, — 
Fall as rain on the red man's plain ; 
No sound doth break their silence there, 
They rest in the Great Spirit's care. 
Those happy hunting grounds they share. 
The waves wail out their mournful dirge 
As they roll surge following surge. 
Never ceasing as time goes on, 
Casting themselves the sands upon 
Ofttimes with strength of angry foes, 
Proclaiming loud the red man's woes 
In thunders deep along the shore 
As breakers dash in sullen roar. 
Beating against the rocky strand, 
Running high upon the mainland 
Pursuing the crafty pale face 
Who wrested this land from our race. 
Then back with a defeated moan 
Like to its victim's dying groan ; 
Back to mingle with the wild waves 
That thunder dirges o'er our graves ; 
Or hushing to a requiem low 
As almost silently they go, 
A rhythmical, musical sound 
As from that far-off hunting ground. 
Breaking the silence lingering round 
The red man's lone neglected mound. 



Or, A Tale of Old Watch Hill. 

The Great Spirit of my fathers 

Comes to me across these waters, 

I hear his voice in winds that sweep 

Across the wild, unfathomed deep; 

No fear I know at his loud voice, — 

We were the children of his choice ; 

The ones he chose this land to give, 

Where we might hunt. fish, war and live. 

This land was and is still our own 

Though the white man hath reared his home 

High upon the lofty hillside, 

Or low the waters down beside. 

Calling with pride this land his own, 

\\niich was and is the red man's home. 

The right I have to roam at will, 

Sentinel am I. to guard this hill ; 

T love, this, to me, sacred spot 

Where the Indian liyeth not, — 

The red man with his matchless grace 

Hath yielded to an alien race. 

All is changed, — the white man's dwelling— 

This truth ever plainly telling. 

His domain they change as they will — 

Though you see him not on this hill, 

His spirit is with you still. 

His light canoe is seen no more 

As he gracefully launched from shore ; 

Or as it bounded o'er the wave. 

No dismal, deafening sound it made, 

That bark was silent as the stars — 

A sailing craft my vision bars ; 

White sails fluttering gay and free 

Where our canoes once used to be ; 



The Stolen Bride; 

Aye, boats of sails and ships of steam 
Now passing in a ceaseless stream 
Laden with the white man's treasure, 
Adding to his comfort, pleasure, 
Lux'ries the red man needed not 
When he lived and controlled this spot. 

His hunting dress, made of leather, 

Protected him from wintry weather ; 

This leather was naught but the hide 

Of wild animals stretched and dried 

With juice of roots and berries dyed. 

Ofttimes our dress and moccasins 

Were trimmed with fringe of fishes' fins, 

Strung with a needle of the same ; — 

Thread from the fibrous larch root came. 

Which also embroidered our dress ; 

Not as fine as yours, I confess. 

But pleasing well the warrior then, 

For the maiden who 'broidered them 

Was she whose love the brave had won — 

Of all the tribe the fairest one. 

When the chief proclaimed her his bride, 

Another wigwam decked the hillside : 

And while he ranged the woods for game. 

The brave's squaw dressed and cooked the same ; 

Maize she planted and tended well, 

Loosening the soil with a clam shell ; 

That with a sapling formed her hoe, 

The kind we used in that long ago ; 

And when the harvest time came on, 

She pounded fine her maize or corn 

In a stone 'hat was hollowed deep, 

(A smaller stone made grinding complete,) 



Or, A Tale of Old Watch Hill. 

Added water to make a paste, 
Taking care none should go to waste, 
Made it into cakes that were round, 
Baked in hot ashes on the ground. 
Over which our kettle was swung, 
^^^hich from three stakes above was hung. — 
AMierein was boiled our fish or meat ; 
This our mode of cooking complete, 
Man's wants supplied in simple ways 
No needless show as in these days. 

The wigwam, our simple dwelling, 
Ho\y it was made I am telling: 
Where trees grew thick, easy building, — 
]\Iake a circle cutting those within 
Those around the circle standing, 
On the sunny side a doorway. 
Cutting from before a pathway, 
A path to the hillside leading, 
Where the warriors met at evening. 
Where our council fires were lighted. 
Where our grievances were righted. 
Then trees which this circle bounded. 
Trees which were easily bended. 
Equal distance from each other, 
Xot one nearer to or farther, 
By the agile braves were climbed. 
By the lithesome braves were bended; 
Bent till tops crossed each the other, — 
From each tree some W'Ood was taken, 
Where they crossed, if not mistaken; 
That the wigwam be securer; 
By strips of hide bound together, 



The Stolen Bride; 

Bound at the top of our wip^wam. 

Which shehered us from cold and storm. 

The sapling's tops were trimmed neatly, 

Trimmed so neatly and completely, 

That they grew no taller, larger, 

Remained the same, changing never, 

The framework of our wigwam formed, 

Over which the tanned skins were stretched ; 

By the braves' squaws these skins were tanned, 

By their squaws they were cut and planned : 

Each one overlapped the other. 

That no wind or rain might enter, — 

A protection from the weather. 

O'er the doorway like a curtain, 

Like a curtain the skins forming; 

When the skies were blue and sunny, 

And the trees in green dressed gaily. 

Then our curtain was drawn outward, 

Then our curtain was looped upward. 

Cut was a slit near the bottom, 

Near the bottom of our curtain, 

A peg in our framework fitting. 

Our wigwam door open leaving; 

But when the sun had passed from sight, 

Stars proclaimed the approach of night. 

We rested from the chase or fight. 

Or when white flakes obscured our sight. 

That curtain was securely closed 

By scalping knife, which warned our foes 

We were there, and would welcome them 

In a manner well befitting. 

No need had we of bolts and bars, 

Our trusty Avatchers were the stars. 



Or, A Tale of Old Watch Hill. 

1 sii^h for the changes I trace, 

Which have been wrought by the pale face; 

Nothing, nothing is here the same 

As when the red man went and came ; 

You see no shadowy trace of him, 

Whose spirit hngers near again. 

At your approach his race hath fled. 

Toward the setting sun hath been sped ; 

His hunting grounds are his no more ; 

No more he treads the Atlantic's shore ! 

Gone forever his wigwam abode, 

The hunting grounds whereon he strode! 

The canoes which these waves have borne 

Are gone — no more shall they return ! 

Perchance you find an arrowhead, 

A\niich hath been plowed from out its bed, — 

'Tis treasured as a relic now, 

That figured in an Indian pow-wow ; 

No future shadow doth it cast, 

Its place in archives of the past. 

The red man's mode of warfare o'er, 
Bow and arrow are used no more : 
The tomahawk and scalping knife 
Allowed no part in warfare's strife, 
These implements have given way 
To deadlier ones of the present day. 
No more the red man's war-whoop shrill 
Wakens echoes around Watch Hill ! 
No more is here the gauntlet run 
By captives, coals of fire upon. 
While with weapons on either side 
The warriors wound his tender hide. 



lo The Stolen Bride; 

(You say we were cruel? No doubt 
You know what you are talking about. 
Who treats the Filipinos worse? 
That is all right! Yes, of course! 
They never have taken from you 
The land which was your rightful due, 
Ne'er wandered from their far-off home 
To claim the soil you call your own. 
Consistency, where art thou gone? 
O Justice, whither art thou flown?) 
No more he watches far and near 
For foes who have fought with him here. 
Oft at the close of summer day, 
Beside Little Narragansett Bay, 
On the ground, our wigwams beside. 
We looked across the rippling tide, 
Or watched from there, still higher up. 
Across the river Pawcatuck, 
With sight keen as an eagle's eye 
As he circles round in the skv, 
Watching for some unguarded prey. 
That he may pounce upon, then away 
To where his nest and eaglets are. 
Beyond our range of vision far; 
His craft and cunning was excelled 
By the Pequots. You know full well 
Their hunting grounds were near our own ; 
The river between oft hath borne 
Our enemies in their war paint, 
(A sight to make a pale face faint;) 
Silently their canoes would glide, 
O'er the river's unruffled tide 

Until their keels grated our shore, 

Out stepped the braves the canoes bore. 



Or, A Tale of Old Watch Hill. ii 

Then grimly formed in single file, 

(The moon hiding her face the while) 

Then advancing with stealthy tread, 

Following their stately chief, who led 

With form erect and eye of flame, 

A.S on with noiseless step he came ; 

The feathers in his hair scarce stirred. 

His bow with arrow that ne'er erred. 

Were in readiness in his hand. 

His tomahawk at close command, 

His scalping knife was in his belt. 

Which oft for a forelock hath felt; 

Many scalps had he carried back 

When on the Narragansetts' track. 

See that dark, silent line advance? 

Now they are near our wigwams, perchance 

They separate, us to surround ; 

All in their places, then a sound, 

Which I doubt not the dead braves hear, 

Breaks on our warrior's sleeping ear, 

Who at once from his couch doth spring, 

Grasps his weapon to fight with him 

Who hath thus invaded his land. 

While confusion reigns on every hand. 

Useless the attempt to describe 

The fury of that battle-tide! 

You, to-day, could ill understand 

A contest, tomahawk in hand, — 

The yells of triumph as we won 

Scalps of those who for ours had come! 

Rest assured fewer Pequots went back 

Than came on the Niantic's track. 



12 The Stolen Bride; 

lieyond the Mystic l\lvcr"s flow, 
'Xcatli Mascn were tliev dealt a l)low. 
That under one higli It'tlgy mound 
Hundreds sought the happy hunting grouml. 
Others phmged in the river's tide, 
Whose waters hy tlieir hlood was dyed : 
While few braves reached the farther shure. 
( So few they were a tribe no more ! ) 
Others sank 'neath the rippling tide, 
1 he remnant of the IV^quot tribe. 

The fiercest tribe of all we found 
Came 'cross the waters of the Sound. 
These Amagansetts often came, 
T'eace or war with them both the same ; 
They came in their canoes so still. 
Came on the west side of the hill. 
Where your granite tower of crested light 
Throws its rays far into the night, 
W^arning ships of the treacherous shore ; 
Still oft the wrecks have strewn it o'er; 
The waters gurgle as men drown 
'Neath the waves of Long Island Sound ; 
Spite of the bell rung by the wave 
Many sailors there have found a grave. 

Tint 'tis of the jXTSt I'm telling. 
With the ]M-esent little dealing. 
Ah, me ! those covered ambuscades ! 
Not for the white man's day and age; 
Craft and cunning, t.nfts of the red man, — 
Dispute it. ye learned who can! 
Ah ! my white brother doth p'-'^tend 
Warfare is the White Sqv.adron's end — 



Or, A Tale of Old Watch Hill. 13 

Fort Mansfield toward the setting sun <■ 
Protects the coast with the big gun ; 
Little is known of warfare now. 
Less of planning surprises, how. 
When we flourished here in our pride. 
Fought with the Amagansett tribi, 
A surprise we had been planning, 
Which should match our foes in cunning. 
INIoon and stars were brightly shining, 
Silently our canoes were gliding. 
Gliding smoothly o'er the Sound. 
Toward our enemies' hunting ground. 
With them it was a big feast night, 
Xo wonder moon and stars shone bright, 
I"or their chief had chosen a bride. 
The fairest of the Montauk tribe. 
Of distant foes they had no fear, 
l-'or the night was so still and clear, 
Thought no danger of foes coming. 
At the height of their carousing, 
\Vithout disturbance or of sound. 
The wedding guests we did surround. 
While by chants they were entreating 
The Great Spirit's marriage blessing, 
While they joined in the stately dance. 
At other scarcely did they glance ; 
While they moved with grace majestic. 
Circled round the fires that had been lit. 
Just as the feast was at its height. 
Our war-whoop woke echoes of the night ; 
No words could well describe the scene. 
Wilder ones there have seldom been. 



14 The Stolen Bride; 

When we returned the waters o'er, 
'Mong the captives, the bride we bore^ 
A beautiful dark-eyed maiden. 
Whom eighteen summers had laden 
With modest grace and beauteous mien, 
Yet at times haughty as a queen. 
Her midnight hair floated wild and free. 
As we came o'er the moonlit sea ; 
Her voice was music, like the birds, 
Low and soft were her answered words ; 
Slender and willowy her form, — 
Flower-like the face we gazed upon ; 
Her dark eyes filled with changing light, 
From brightest day, to darkest night, 
Sunshine in hope, shadow in storm, 
Like a moonbeam fair in its calm ; 
Twilight, the name which suited well 
The maid of whom this tale I tell. 

Ere shone again the summer sun. 
The captives that came us among. 
Were married to braves of our tribe ; — 
No warrior wooed the dark-eyed bride. 
In her wigwam she dwelt alone. 
Disturbed and molested by none ; 
By the oldest squaw of our tribe 
Gifts were sent this unmated bride; 
Nothing by her was accepted 
Save the little food she needed ; 
Trinkets had no charm for her eye. 
She turned from them all with a sigh; 
Her bridal robe she ever wore. 
Mending when time's ravage it bore, 



Or, A Tale of Old Watch Hill. 15 

Or replacing with new the same, — 

Kept her finery as when she came. 

By (lav she listed the hillow's roar 

On the bright sands of the seashore, 

Straining her eyes that she might see 

Her former home across the sea. 

No friends she made of any one, 

Save young ones of the tribe. Anon, 

You would see them grouped round her door, 

Or with her as she walked the shore 

Listening their chatter with a smile, 

As they gathered wampum the while. 

Or searched for pebbles smooth and round. 

Or played with seaweed scattered around. 

Oft she sat on the jutting steep. 

The young ones sporting at her feet, 

Gazing with eyes misty and dim, 

Across the waters, thinking of him 

Whose bride she was to have been. 

Wondering why he never came, 

Believing in his love the same 

As her faith in that of her own. 

Which life or death no change would know : 

A love vvhich is true as the sun 

Sinks from sight when the day is done, 

Then rises again with the dawn — 

Never a night without its morn. 

As she gazes southward ever, 
Sees her lover coming never, 
Weary turns she, going homeward, 
From the hill crest going northward, 
Going northward to her wigwam. 
Where she is secure from harm. 



l6 The Stolen Bride, 

No brave ever crossed her threshold, 
Nor in his manner was he bold — 
No uncivil words did he say, 
Never crossed her wigwam doorway ; 
Her seclusion was respected, 
Her needs never were neglected, 
Of her no labor was expected. 

But when our council fires did flame, 

She oft within the circle came, 

Glanced from one brave to another 

As if searching for her lover. 

Then as tears dimmed her midnight eye 

She turned away, stifling a sigh, — 

Went as silently as she came 

To sit and watch beside the main. 

Whene'er the enemv'd attack 

And while we fought to drive them back. 

She came again within our midst. 

Heeding not the arrows that hissed 

And fell about her like the rain — 

Spear and tomahawk heeding the same ; 

The braves of the offending tribe 

Gazed in awe on this stolen bride. 

If they were approaching too near, 

(This Indian maid who knew no fear) 

She turned on them with haughty mien 

Befitting an insulted queen. 

No startled look was in her face, 

On her visage no fear could you trace. 

Only a look serene and high 

Flashed on them from her midnight eye 

Which inspired them with rev'rent fear 

That her presence they came not near. 



Or, A Tale of Old Watch Hill. 17 

No one the maiden dared to harm, 
Or venture near as to alarm. 
We looked on her as an omen 
For good, when we counselled, or when 
We fought with foes that dared invade, 
As victory followed the maid, — 
\'ictory followed where she came. 
Victory followed the maiden's name, 
Who was the mascot of our tribe, 
This Amagansett's stolen bride. 

Thus long she dwelt with us here ; 
Naught of her lover did she hear, — 
The chief who was the first to fall 
First of that marriage 'sembly all ; 
This Twilight refused to believe. 
Thinking tidings she might receive 
She sought the hill and watched for him. 
For him whose bride she was to have been. 

When from east to west the golden sun, 
His pathless, trackless course had run, 
And when darkness about us closed, 
We sought each one his night's repose. 
Save this maid from that distant tribe, 
Whose chief she was the promised bride. 
Again she watched from this same hill, — 
Methinks her spirit watches still ! 
And at the silent midnight hour 
I see her v.'atching near the tower. 
The wind tossing her midnight hair; 
Silently she stands watching there, 
Scanning the dark waters over, 
Watching for her absent lover, 



i8 The Stolen Bride; 

Thinking she hears as in this life, 

The Atlantic's discordant strife 

As the waves break in sullen roar, 

Break and dash o'er this rock-bound shore; 

Retreating waves settling around 

Rocks with a murmuring, gurgling sound. 

As from the unseen hunting ground ; 

She strains her ever list'ning ear 

The approach of canoes to hear, 

Hoping her lover true will come, 

Bear her away to his island home. 

Always, ever thinking of him 

And the time when they meet again. 

Praying the Great Spirit above, 

To send His blessing on her love, 

To keep him safe within His care 

Until he meet her watching there. 

Many moons had waxed and waned 
Since Twilight to the mainland came; 
Many changes come to the tribe 
Whose mascot was the stolen bride; 
By day her watchful vigil kept, 
The same at night while others slept ; 
But one summer day's early dawn, 
Just after the morning was born, 
While dewdrops glistened in the sun. 
The maiden's course of life was run. 

We found her on the hillside steep, 

With face turned toward the changing deep, 

Watching as in life for the chief 

Whose earthly career had been brief. 



Or, A Tale of Old Watch Hill. 



19 



On that same hill crest she's sleeping, 
Safe in the Great Spirit's keeping ; 
She hath ceased her constant watching. 
In that better life awakening, 
There her absent lover greeting. 
Nevermore to know no parting, 
No parting from this final meeting. 

But Twilight's watching gave this hill 
The same name that you call it still, — 
"Watch Hill ;" you know this nmch is true 
Of the tale I have told to you ; 
No more this part than the o.her — 
One than the other no truer ; 
True as is my star of life is set, 
This storv true, I am Xinigret. 







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A BRIFF HISTORY OF WATCH HILL. 



Watch Hill, which, as a seaside summer resort, 
rivals Narragansett Pier and Long Branch, is situated 
in the southwestern part of Rhode Island and washed by 
the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, Long Island Sound, and 
the waters of Little Narragansett Bay. 

In a few short years this favorite resort has changed 
from a place of cnc small hotel, called the Nash House, 
and a few "fish houses." to a charming village, consisting 
of eight large hotels, a shore-dinner house and more 
than a hundred cottages, a church, post-ofifice, stores, etc., 
presenting a citified aspect with its streets and avenues, 
electric cars and lights, with a population during the 
summer months of over three thousand, while the visi- 
tors who daily throng here swell the number to three 
and even ten. thousand more. 

Each hotel has its own orchestra ; and hops, whist 
])arties, ping pong, promenading and flirting, are some 
of the evening amusements. 

East of the Ocean House is a fine baseball ground, be- 
longing to the Watch Hill Athletic Association. A mile 
east of the Hill is the Misquamicut Ciolf Links, which 
are second to none in the country, and where this fasci- 
nating sport is indulged to the enthusiast's entire satis- 
faction. The tennis courts are near the club house and 
not far from the golf links. 

As you walk around over the "Hill," you are charmed 
with the scenery which is presented. The natural beauty 
of the place is greatly enhanced by artistic landscape gar- 

(21) 



22 A Brief History of Watch Hill. 

dening', and as you pass one after another of the attrac- 
tive cottages, one on the brow of a hill, the next nestling 
at the foot or half-way up the side, the thought suggests 
itself that each of the occupants is striving to outdo the 
other in the oddity and attractiveness of exterior deco- 
rations. 

And no matter where you go. you are n^ver out of 
sight of the ever-changing sea which forms a frame for 
Watch Hill, which is no less beautiful than the picture 
itself. 

In land form Watch Hill is a peninsula, with two 
arms, one extending south into the Atlantic and the 
other, and longer one, extending westward and separat- 
ing the bay from the ocean. But often during heavy 
storms the ocean makes a breach through this strip of 
land, and rushes in his angry white-capped waves to 
mingle with the calmer waters of the bay. 

Watch Hill is appropriately named, as it is indeed a 
"hill," — accurately speaking, several hills, — which gives it 
an advantage over most seaside summer resorts, as they 
are almost invariably low lands, and consequently have 
mosquitoes and malaria to contend with. The first part 
of the name originates from the fact that years ago the 
Niantics, a Narragansett tribe of Indians, who held this 
part of Rhode Island, under their chief Ninigret, used 
to watch here for the approach of their enemies, the 
Montauks of the Amagansetts, whose "hunting grounds" 
were on Long Island, and also the Pequots of Connecti- 
cut. And more than one battle of the aborigines took 
place on this historic spot. Later, before telegraphy, or 
other modern improvements of communication were in 
use, white settlers who expected friends from across the 
water, or a boat that was due or overdue, came to this 
same hill and watched for a sight of the expected vessel. 
Hence it was called Watch Hill. 

The first government building there was a lighthouse, 

iofc. 



A Brief History of Watch Hill. 23 

and many who sail the main have cause to bless its steady 
light, for the coast is rocky, and in spite of the warning 
that flashes out across the dark waters from sunset till 
sunrise many a stately ship has met her doom on this 
rock-bound coast. This fact is plainly evident, as the 
beach on the ocean side, and around the light house is 
literally strewn with wreckage. 

The most disastrous wreck on the Xew England coast. 
was that of the steamer "Metis," Aug. 31, 1872. The 
"Metis" was owned by the Providence and New York 
Steamship Company, and was on her way to Providence 
with 155 persons on board. 

During the night of Aug. 30th a fearful storm swept 
over Long Island Sound, "the wind blew a gale, the 
rain fell in torrents and the blackness of midnight settled 
over the scene." About 3 o'clock in the morning she col- 
lided with the schooner "Nettie Gushing," and in a half 
hour her hull sank, while in some unaccountable manner 
the hurricane deck with fifty-three persons on it floated 
free. Eagerly and anxiously the residents, fishermen and 
guests from the hotels watched the ill-fated mariners on 
their raft and in the four small boats from the "Metis." 
While they were watching, the hurricane deck went to 
pieces, the boats were swamped, and without warning, 
the unfortunates were cast into the seething waters. 
There was no Life Saving Station here then, but there 
were good sailors with courageous hearts. These brave 
men launched two fishing boats and manned by five men 
each, went into the very jaws of death to rescue the 
perishing. 

But in spite of the most heroic efforts on their part, 
from 8 o'clock in the morning until 6 at night, more than 
fifty lives were lost on the memorable day. 

Congress awarded a beautiful gold medal to each of 
the ten men who voluntarily risked his life in saving that 
of others. The medal awarded to Edwin W. Nash, own- 



24 A Brief History of Watch Hill. 

er of one of the boats that went to the rescue, it has been 
my pleasure to see, and by the courtesy of Mr. Nash 
allowed to copy the inscription, which is as follows : 

"By Resolution of Congress, February 24, 1873, to Ed- 
win W. Nash, for Courage and Humanity in the Saving 
of Life from the wreck of the Steamer "Metis" on Long 
Ldand Sound, Aug. 31, 1872." 

On the other side is a beautiful reproduction of a life 
saving scene. The medal is about two inches in diame- 
ter, and its intrinsic value one hundred and fifty dollars. 

The wreck of the "Metis" seems fresh in the minds 
of many old residents here, and it is most interesting to 
hear them relate incidents of which they were eye wit- 
nesses. 

Many are the souvenirs to be seen from the "Metis," 
but the most interesting, is, perhaps, a section of her 
steering wheel in a perfect state of preservation. This 
is the property of C. W. Russell, of the Atlantic House, 
and where it is on exhibition. 

The lighthouse, with its gray stone tower outlined 
against a clear blue sky and situated on the extreme end 
of the southern peninsula, which is covered with a 
luxuriant growth of dark green grass, is a picture in it- 
self. And as you stand on the sea-wall directly south of 
it, you can hear a bell tolling in the distance, and as the 
mournful "toll" comes to you across the waters it sounds 
like the sailors' death-knell. But instead of being their 
knell, it often proves their savior and guide to a safe 
harbor, as it is a bell buoy, placed there also by the 
government to warn mariners of the treacherous rocks, 
and for the same purpose there is an iron spindle on the 
reef and bevond a can-buoy. 

On this same peninsula, a few rods from the light- 
house is the United States Life-Saving Station, whose 
value cannot be overestimated, as manv lives and valu- 



A Brief History of Watch Hill. 



25 



able cargoes are saved every year. The Station was built 
in 1879 and since Aug. 15th of that year more than 
one hundred wrecks have received aid from the hfe- 
savers. The crew consists of the Captain and six men, 
ai'd for ten months in tlie year (from Aug. i to June i), 
from sunset to sunrise, and when stormy or foggy dur- 
ing the day the men keep a constant patrol of the shore. 
This patrol extends east two and a half miles to Pleasant 
\'iew, and one and three-fourth miles west to Fort Alans- 
field. 




Crew of the U. S. Life-Saving Station in Action. 

The Station contains life boats and cars, breeclies buoy, 
ropes, cannon, signal guns — in fact all the modern de- 
vices known for saving life and rendering aid to those 
in distress, and men under Captain Davis, well trained 
in the use of them and fearless as to their own danger In 
rendering aid to those in need of help. 

Many visitors register at the Life-Saving Station an- 
nuallv and all who visit the Hill should not fail to call 



26 A Brief History of Watch Hill. 

at the Station, as no description can do the Government 
appHances justice, they must be seen to be understood 
and appreciated. 

Not until within a few years have the names of boats 
that were total wrecks been saved, still quite a collection 
may be seen opposite the Station on the left hand as you 
go toward the lighthouse. 

The western peninsula extends over two miles fron? 
Watch Hill joroper, then reaches north for a little way. 
terminating in Sandy Point, and forming a fine shelter 
for Little Narragansett Bay. It is on this part of the 
peninsula called Napartree Point, that Fort Mansfield 
was built by the government in 1900, to prevent gun- 
boats of our foreign enemies (if they dare come that 
near) from reaching New York. 

As you stand there by Fort Mansfield, you look across 
the bay and see Stonington and the ships in the harbor. 
At night you can see the Stonington Breakwater Light, 
and if you look in the opposite direction across Long 
Island Sound you can see Montauk Light and Latiner 
Reef Light, From the various hotels, in addition to the 
above lights, may be seen those of Ram Island Reef, 
New London, North Dumpling Race Rock and even 
Point Judith. During the day, if it is clear, you can see 
the outline of Long Island. 

Fisher's Island is near you to the southwest and not 
far from it is a gray stone tower. It seemed that "once 
upon a time" a man named Rhodes conceived a bright idea 
for supplying sailors with "fire-water," and not pay a 
license, or in any way be interfered with by State laws. 
To this end he built a foundation of stone, which he 
was convinced was equally in New York, Connecticut and 
Rhode Island waters. He intended, when his three-state 
house was completed, to have a bar in the center of it, 
and if officers came from Connecticut to turn his re- 
volving cupboard, where his ardents were kept to the 



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28 A Brief History of Watch Hill 

New York or Rhode Island side, and sell drinks from 
the same side of the bar. Then if New York or Rhode 
Island officers came it would be an easy matter to re- 
verse the order of things. 

The originator of this enterprise died about the time 
the foundation was finished. No one seemed inclined 
to carry out his project and as the foundation was often 
covered by water in a storm, the government built the 
granite tower on it for the safety of vessels, and to mark 
the spot, called, ''The Folly." 

There are other islands near, but Fisher's seems more 
closely in touch with Watch Hill, for though belonging 
to New York State, it is nearest of any to Fort Mans- 
field, and the White Squadron and yachts anchor there 
during the summer. 

As we leave the fort and turn our faces toward the 
Hill, if the day is clear, we can see plainly the lighthouse, 
life-saving station, the Block Island dock, then the hotels 
(of which the Larkin House is the largest and nearest 
the lighthouse) and cottages, and as we draw nearer, the 
places of amusements as the "merry-go-round." Maze, 
Ferris Wheel, gipsy fortune-tellers, Indians and photog- 
raphers' tents. 

As we walk along the beach to the right, or ocean side, 
beside the tugs, barges, steamers and sailing vessels, are 
sail and row-beats containing parties fishing for blue fish 
and mackerel, which are very plentiful on the extensive 
fishing grounds about Watch Hill. Now and again you 
notice one or two lone fishermen, who have been to haul 
their lobster pots or get the lobsters from the car to 
take to the Hill, where they are sold at the hotels and 
cottages. 

The hotel proprietors usually engage some fishermen 
to supply them with the edibles of the sea the season 
through. 

On the opposite, or bay side, men, children, and even 



A Brief History of Watch Hill. 29 

women can be seen crabbing, digging clams and oyster- 
ing, providing the law is off. 

On our way we pass a few cottages and one hotel, now 
called the Halcyon House, but better known to old resi- 
dents as the Peninsular House. 

Along the beach at ebb tide the sand is hard and firm, 
making walking easier than on some sidewalks, except 
where we come to those beds of round stones that the 
constant washing of the waves and grinding each upon 
the other have worn as smooth as polished marble. Then 
it is well to look to your steps or a sprained ankle is liable 
to result. 

While you stand on these rocky beds you hear a con- 
stant rumbling, grinding sound, caused by the waves 
moving the mighty beds of rocks back and forth, grind- 
ing off their corners and rough edges and polishing their 
surface before they too are cast upon shore to keep com- 
pany with those already there. 

The bathing beach is near now and as you sit in 
the pavilion you can count by scores the bathers who are 
enjoying a dip in the Atlantic on one of the safest, sandi- 
est beaches on the New England coast. To remove all 
fears of timid bathers, and for safety in case of cramp 
or any other disaster or accident, there are extending 
ropes and also boats in readiness to go to the rescue of 
any in danger. 

Watch Hill is about one hundred and twenty-five 
miles from New York and less than one hundred miles 
from Boston. It is easily reached both by land and water, 
being in direct communication by electric cars with West- 
erly, six miles above, through which the N. Y., N. H. & 
H. shore line runs. 

During the summer in addition to the cars, boats from 
Westerly, Stonington, Norwich and New London, make 
regular trips. 

A steamer plies between Watch Hill and Westerly on 



30 A Brief History of Watch Hill. 

the Pawcatuck River. This river divides Connecticut and 
Rhode Island, and the sail, though short, presents a 
variety of pretty and interesting scenes to the view. 

As you leave Westerly and her granite quarries a 
little way behind, you notice a large building to your 
right, which is known as Cottrell's machine shop, and It 
is there the world renowned "Cottrell Printing Press" is 
manufactured. 

A little farther, less than two miles from our start- 
ing point, and on the same, or Connecticut side of the 
river, is a large brick mill, with cottages clustering 
around, forming a neat little village in itself, known as 
Clarksville. There is where Clark's spool cotton is made. 

Farther down and to the left you see, as you round a 
beautiful curve in the river, that "City of the Dead," 
known as River Bend Cemetery. 

Beyond this and on the same side of the river you see 
a quiet, contented-looking little hamlet outlined against 
hills which from "time out of mind" was called the "Lot- 
tery," or Lotteryville ; but a few years ago, when it had 
inhabitants sufficient to warrant petitioning for a post- 
office, the government would grant it only on condition 
that the name be changed to one less suggestive. And 
in the choice of a name the people displayed their un- 
disputably good taste by selecting the very appropriate 
one of Avondale. 

A little lower, and to the right, is a point of land called 
Osbrook. It is covered with trees and has a shingly- 
shiny beach sloping down to the water's edge. Osbrook 
is a charming spot for picnic parties. 

Soon you glide out of the river and into Little Nar- 
ragansett Bay, and when you reach the landing opposite 
the Shore Dinner House, you find the steamer "Ella," 
from Norwich, there before you. 

Besides the "Ella" there is another boat from Nor- 
wich, called the "Block Island," and which also touches 



A Brief History of Watch Hill. 31 

at New London, that quaint old whahng town which 
hgured so conspicuously in the Revolutionary War. 
Its Forts Trumbull and GriswoM, from opposite sides 
of the Thames, frown on you as you sail down the river, 
and the Groton Monument stands high on a hill back of 
Fort Griswold, where Colonel Ledyard and his brave 
garrison were butchered after having laid down their 
arms under a flag of truce ; and like a sentinel she keeps 
Avatch over her martyred dead. 

The "Block Island" leaves and takes passengers from 
Watch Hill from a pier on the ocean side. This pier ex- 
tends between the lighthouse and the bathing beach and 
is nearly a quarter of a mile in length. 

The boat then goes en to the island after which it 
receives its name. This island is about e'ghtecn or twentv 
miles from Watch Hill, and the water between the two 
places being often very rough, sea-sickness is not an 
imcommon thing for those on board to experience. 

Resides these three large boats there is a small steamer 
running at regular hours across the bay, furnishing 
direct transportation to and from Stonington, and con- 
necting with all trains from New York and Boston. 

There are but few seaside summer resorts more easily 
reached, and taken altogether. Watch Hill has but few 
superiors for a summer home ; to those wishing to escape 
from the city for the heated term and enjoy the invig- 
orating sea breezes it is heartily recommended. 



OCEAN HOUSE 

WATCH HILL, R. L 







-iLJLJLSLOJliLOJUlJLJULSLOJLOJUJ^ 



Opens in June. 

Overlooking the Ocean. 

Rooms Single or En Suite. 
Private Baths. 

Superior Cuisine. 

Select Patronage. 
Boating, Sailing, Fishing, Golf, 
Tennis. Fine Drives. 

J. F. CHAMPLIN, PROP. 



NEW PLIMPTON HOTEL, 



WATCH HILL, R. I. 




ill F^" 




ROTUNDA AND OFFICE ^bAI.L-KuoM IN THH DiSIANLE) uh THh NEW ILIMI ]0.\ HulEL. 

Under entirely new management. Thoroughly ap- 
pointed. Lighted by electricity. Rooms singly or en 
suite, with bath. 
WATCH HILL VISITORS can obtain special rates at 

HOTEL HAMILTON, 

132 West 45TH St., "New York City. 

Absolutely fireproof. Accessible to theatres and 
shopping district. Furnished or unfurnished suites with 
bath. Permanently or transiently. 

THOMAS PARKES, Proprietor, 



(OF BOTH HOTELS). 



LONG niSTANCE 
TBLKPHONE. 



WINTER RESORT : 

HOTEL INDIAN RIVER, 

KOCKI.EDGE, FLORIDA. 



WESTERN UNION 
TELEGRAPH OFFICE. 



THE LARKIN HOUSE, 



I. IIAMMANT, 



WATCH HILL, R. L 







^^p 



r I !• 



B I f 8 iT 

u i i u u n 




ALWAVS COOL— FINEST LOCATION ON THE HILL. 



OUTDOOR AMUSEMENTS AT THE LARKIN HOUSE: 

Surf Bathing. Fishing. Bicyling. 

Still Water Bathing. Crabbing. Lawn Tenuis. 

Boating. Horseback Riding. Croquette. 

Yachting. Driving. Golf. 

Hot Sea Baths. 



INDOOR AMUSEMENTS: 

Billiards. Pool. Ping Pong. Card Parties. Dancing Classes. 



PRIVATE THEATRICALS. 

The management takes pleasure in announcing that Prof. Cakl Maraviq 
will be at the hotel this year. 



Dancing Every Night in Ball-room. Sunday Night Sacred Concerts. 



I Watch H ill House -< I 

I v^ v^ AND COTTAGES. I 



I OPEN FROM JUNE TO SEPTEMBER. \ 




i Most desirable location, and highest elevation, overlooking Ocean, $ 

II Sound and Bay. * 

tl Sailing, Fine Surf Bathing, Tennis, Bowling, Billiards, Ping Pong. | 

« Prof. H. T. Miller's Orchestra— thirty-second consecutive season. | 

^e ' * 

$ The Misquamicut Golf Club— incorporated in 1896— has an exceed- | 

$ ingly beautiful and interesting course of 18 holes. | 

^f The Watch Hill House is supplied with White Rock Water from 

a . - . ^ 



the Westerly Water Works. Pronounced by the Secre- 
tary of the R. 1. Mate Board of Health, from monthly 
analysis, to be the purest water supply in the Stale. 



* D. C. Babcock, 



Manager. 



|»^MHtH^^MHNHMH >:i » ^»»*»***»»*») K» .)NHMH|HNeNHNHjHiHMH4c«^ 



JUL 30 1903 




THE ATLANTIC HOUSE. 



THE ATLANTIC HOUSE 



commands one of the finest 
views of Watch Hill, includ- 
ing both water and the surrounding country. The House is provided with White 
Rock Water, the finest in the State, and is also equipped with electric lights. 

Rates from $2.50 to $3.50 per Day. 

Single Hooms, $15.00 to $28.50. 

Double Rooms, $25.00 to $42.00 per Week. 



C. W. RUSSELL. 




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